


Hollow

by PocketPrompto



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Nyx Ulric Appreciation Week, NyxUlricWeek2020, Sexual Content, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:55:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24917947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketPrompto/pseuds/PocketPrompto
Summary: Nyx could taste acid on the back of his tongue, bitter and all encompassing, like his memories of Galahd now. He didn’t want to see what awaited him on the other side of that hill. But his feet drag him, through the dirt and debris, with Libertus by his side and countless other refugees following behind. It called to him, just like the rains did before Niflheim invaded. His heart and soul was in Galahd, he was born here, raised here, and one day he knows that this is where he’ll die and return to the very earth that sustained him.But this Galahd is not his home. Not anymore.
Relationships: Cor Leonis/Nyx Ulric
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35





	Hollow

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 7 of Nyx Ulric Appreciation Week!  
> Prompt: Coming Home

It looks different.

Not unrecognizable, but definitely different. Where trees once stood tall is now empty land with mangled roots at the bottom, some bits of bark still burnt and splintered. The lush green hills now stained grey with ash and just as coarse. Nyx can remember a time when he, Selena, and Libertus would spend hours rolling down that hill. The grass would tickle their skin as they sped by and cushion their landing once they reached the base, covered in dew from the cool morning’s rain. Their laughter would weave between the blades along with the wind that carried the sounds of their joy, all the way to the village beyond.

Nyx could taste acid on the back of his tongue, bitter and all encompassing, like his memories of Galahd now. He didn’t want to see what awaited him on the other side of that hill. But his feet drag him, through the dirt and debris, with Libertus by his side and countless other refugees following behind. It called to him, just like the rains did before Niflheim invaded. His heart and soul was in Galahd, he was born here, raised here, and one day he knows that this is where he’ll die and return to the very earth that sustained him.

But this Galahd is not his home. Not anymore.

When he crests the hill, the sight stalls him. That acid builds and builds, threatening to spill out of his mouth unbidden but he chokes it back. He no longer hears the sounds of Selena’s warm laugh, or Libertus’ deep chuckle. The winds carry a new song, and it’s the wailing of his people. The high keens of mourning as mothers drop to their knees and dig fingernails into soil where their sons and daughters have long been waiting without proper burials. 

A heavy hand lands on his shoulder and squeezes, and Nyx reaches back without looking, placing his hand atop Libertus’ and squeezing in return because it’s the only thing that can ground him now, staring at the sight of an empty, broken village.  _ His _ village. Most of the homes are completely gone, the only things standing are a few door frames or foundations but the rest has been swallowed up by dark pools of black where the mortars hit, where the daemon’s emerged. It had been their home for a long time, too. That is, until recently.

“What are we going to do?” comes a quiet voice. 

Nyx turns around and finds an older woman standing not too far from him, a hand over her mouth in what he could only assume was disbelief. 

“How are we supposed to...to rebuild? There’s nothing left to build off of. We’d be starting all over again,” she continues, shaking her head. Her long braids click together, beads tapping and clacking and the sound draws a deep, nostalgic ache in Nyx. 

Other voices start to chime in and the mournful atmosphere is soon being replaced with panic, voices rising and drowning out those trying to keep the peace. And Nyx felt...hopeless. For the first time in a long time, he has this utterly empty feeling sitting in his gut where fear and nausea had been earlier. He was at a loss for words because he himself didn’t know what to do either. 

He had thought that with the return of dawn, with the selfless sacrifice King Noctis had made to purge the scourge from their earth, Galahd would be safe to inhabit again. The threat of Niflheim was long gone and the daemons retreated to wherever creatures like that lie and Galahd was  _ theirs _ again. So why wasn’t he happier? Why didn’t this feel like a victory to them? Why couldn’t Nyx open his mouth and say something, anything, to make this feel less like a waste of time?

“We’ll ask for help,” Libertus says and it snaps Nyx back into this reality. “We’ll go back to Insomnia and ask for help.”

Tredd laughs and it’s loud and cynical and if Nyx hadn’t dragged that fucking kid out of the rubble himself he’d probably have killed him by now with his own hands. “Insomnia was the place that stood by and watched while Niflheim dropped in to say hello with fire and brimstone. So excuse me for not having faith in the royal family.”

“It isn’t about the royal family anymore,” Libertus snaps, which puts even Nyx on edge. “King Mors and King Regis might not have given a fuck about us but King Noctis at least came back for us ‘Glaives after the ten year darkness.”

“Yeah and he’s dead now so what use is he to us who have to live in this nightmare he created?” Tredd spits. 

Nyx might later say that what comes over him right now was simply an amalgamation of stress, trauma, and lack of sleep. But the real answer is that Nyx has always wanted a reason to punch Tredd and he thinks this definitely warrants it. So when his fist connects with the side of Tredd’s jaw and takes him down, no one else seems to be that surprised.

“Shut the fuck up,” Nyx glowers, standing over Tredd’s sprawled out body. “That kid did more for us than the hundreds of Lucis Caelum’s who came before him. And what have you done, Tredd? Other than run your mouth every chance you get, switching sides when it benefits you. What have  _ you _ done for Galahd?”

Tredd spits blood out the side of his mouth and smartly opts not to answer that, so Nyx steps away from him and looks to Libertus and then the rest of the refugees.

“Lib’s right. We go back and ask Insomnia for help. I’m sure they're busy with their own rebuilding efforts but after all the ‘Glaives did to help the King return to the Citadel, I think they can set aside some time for us.” He turns back to the village and scans over it one more time, watching as the last of his good memories get replaced with the grim sight before him. “Let’s go. Before it gets dark.”

* * *

The door shuts with a loud click and Nyx toes off his boots, leaving them in a heap by the entryway. His uniform coat is next to go and he tosses that in the general direction of the living room. It lands somewhere around the couch, he thinks, but doesn’t bother to check. Instead, he goes right for the kitchen and pulls a bottle of wine out from the refrigerator.    
  
“You’re back,” Cor’s sleep addled voice says from behind him.

“Mm,” Nyx hums, pouring about half the bottle into one of those big souvenir coffee mugs that he finds tucked away in their cupboard.

“I thought you’d be gone longer,” Cor says. Nyx shrugs, taking a long swig before turning around and slotting his hip against the countertop. It digs into his hip bones and he thinks maybe he’s lost a little weight.

“Yeah, so did we,” Nyx says bitterly into the rim of his mug. Cor has his arms crossed and he’s leaning against the doorframe of their bedroom, watching Nyx like a hawk. There was a time when Nyx loved having those eyes on him. Loved the way they blatantly undressed him while they were on duty together, the way they scanned down his body and took in every detail when they later laid in bed together. But now those eyes were speculative, investigating him and looking for any sign of distress and it made Nyx feel more naked than he would if they were fucking.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Cor finally asks. 

Nyx quietly snorts, downing the rest of his wine in a few gulps before setting the mug down with a loud clack. He approaches Cor like a predator about to devour its prey. “No, I don’t,” he says, putting a hand to Cor’s hip and gently easing him backwards towards their bed. Nyx leans forward and nips at Cor’s jaw. He knows his breath still smells like wine and probably like the couple whiskeys he had before he even got home, but Cor doesn’t push him away. 

When Cor’s knees hit the edge of their bed, Nyx pushes him the rest of the way back and climbs over his waist, but Cor holds him back and stops him from going any further.

“Nyx,” he warns but Nyx doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to stop, or talk about his feelings, or cry about Galahd. He’s done talking and crying. 

“Cor,” Nyx says back, just as annoyed and he pulls his shirt off, throwing it aside. He manages to roll his hips upwards just enough to let his intentions be known to Cor, who quietly groans in response. The firm hand on his hip tightens before slowly easing off. Nyx grins in the dark of their room but his expression quickly changes when Cor rolls them over and pins Nyx to the bed, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

“You’re such a  _ brat _ ,” Cor hisses, his hands sliding down Nyx’s sides and to his pants, deftly undoing his belt, button, zipper. 

“I thought you liked me like that,” Nyx whispers, which earns him a light slap to the face from Cor’s heavy hand. Nyx moans, his eyes rolling shut and his back arching off the bed as much as it could with Cor holding him down because fucking  _ finally _ , this is what he really wanted. Not to talk or cry or feel anything other than a cock in his ass so that maybe, just for a little while, he can close his eyes and not see the burnt down remains of his home, where his sister and mother are taking their permanent slumber.

“Pay attention,” Cor snaps and Nyx’s eyes shoot open, staring up at Cor who was watching him with a steely gaze. “I said grab the lube.”

And Nyx does, but the rest of the night seems to pass by in flashes through his mind. The sound of the lube cap opening, fingers pressing into his ass, the feel of his back squirming against the sheets. Then there’s Cor, his thick body looming over Nyx, holding his legs up to his torso, pushing inside. Nyx can hear the headboard slamming against the wall, more stucco falling off and landing in a dusty pile somewhere along the baseboards. 

At one point he comes, and Cor isn’t too far behind, emptying himself inside of Nyx and even though he should feel so warm and full, Nyx lays there staring at the ceiling with nothing but an empty feeling inside of him. It was hollow and fragile and if Cor wasn’t propping himself up on his arms, kissing away the sweat that had gathered in the crook of Nyx’s neck, he thinks the pressure of Cor’s body alone would have shattered him.

* * *

“Oh, hey Nyx! I didn’t know you were back from Galahd already!”

Prompto’s voice is entirely too loud for this time of day, but it’s also kind of nice to know the kid hasn’t lost his enthusiasm, despite everything he’s been through. Even at thirty, he was just as spritely as he was when he was twenty.

“Hey, Prom. We got back a couple days ago. But I need to talk to your council about some things,” Nyx says, staring down at the swirling liquid of his coffee. It was winter in Insomnia but the warmth of his drink did nothing to ward off the chill in his bones. 

“Yeah, for sure! Iggy and Gladio are both in a meeting right now but it’s almost done. We can squeeze ya in before the next one,” Prompto says and begins to ascend the steps of the Citadel. Nyx follows along at a much slower pace because he hates to admit it but getting older really takes a fucking toll on your body and even though he could have the worlds most rigorous sex and walk away fairly unscathed the next day, stairs were another challenge entirely.

Prompto notices him lagging behind and slows down which only makes Nyx feel even more like an old bastard, but at least he wasn’t Cor because Cor truly was ancient.

“How have the restorations been coming along?” Nyx asks, because even though he despises small talk, he hates awkward silences even more and Prompto was not a pro at hiding his discomfort.

“Oh! They’re going pretty good! We’re starting on the lower levels and working our way up where it’s...the worst. But honestly most of our efforts have gone to repairing the area outside of the Citadel. With people returning from Leide, Cleigne, and Duscae, we’re gonna need a lot of new apartments. But until then we’ve been turning meeting rooms and banquet halls and offices into spare bedrooms for everyone!” 

“That’s...pretty cool of you, kid.”

Prompto beams at the praise and he carries that enthusiasm all the way up to the meeting room that was being let out a few minutes after they arrived. Nyx doesn’t really see anyone he knows but they all kind of look like stuffy diplomats who don’t hesitate to give Nyx a once over when they pass by. Nyx narrows his eyes at them and, sensing the hostile environment, Prompto nervously laughs and tugs on Nyx’s elbow, leading him into the meeting room and shutting the door behind him.

“Hey guys, I brought Nyx! Says he wants to talk to us about some things.”

Nyx takes in the small room, noting the broken windows covered in plastic and the single long table in the center, surrounded by a few mix matched chairs.

“Ah, Mr. Ulric. I remember hearing that the expedition to Galahd had returned early,” Ignis says, his scarred eyes hidden by dark glasses. 

“Yeah, did you guys not get off or somethin’?” Gladio asks and grabs his own coffee, sipping it down like he’d never get the chance again later.

“About that,” Nyx says and walks further in but doesn’t sit. “We did get off. But it turns out Galahd is a lot more fucked—,erm... _ in ruins _ , than we initially thought. There really isn’t anything to build off of there. And even if there was, forty Galahdan refugees can’t really do it alone. So I’m here to request some help,” he finishes, looking at the three of them.

“A rebuilding effort in Galahd,” Ignis muses. 

“What are you thinking, Iggy?” Gladio asks and Prompto nods along in question.

“Yeah, what's going on in that big Iggy brain of yours?” 

Ignis sighs at the comment but turns towards Nyx which kind of makes him shiver because how the hell did he manage to know  _ exactly _ where he was standing?

“I’m sure Prompto mentioned that we are having our own issues with reforming the cities outside of the Citadel?” 

Nyx nods. “Yeah, he said something about that. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Well, we don’t have unlimited resources, Mr Ulric—”

“Nyx, please.”

“Nyx,” Ignis amends before continuing. “We’re getting help from the regions outside of Insomnia who have gratefully offered to volunteer their time and supplies but most of the people returning do not yet have homes. We are packing families ten to a room and in some places, even more. We simply don’t have the ability to help Galahd at this moment.”

Nyx’s brow twitches and his fingers tighten against the cardboard cup in his hand.

“What do you mean ‘ _ we don’t have the ability’ _ ? Can’t you just allocate some of those resources to Galahd instead of a section of Insomnia?”

“And deprive those people of shelter?” Ignis asks, sitting up a little straighter.

“So you’ll sacrifice Galahdan soldiers for your precious Lucian sons? Who do you think has been protecting these people for the last, oh, twenty odd years? The Kingsglaive. And who comprises the entirety of the Kingsglaive? Galahdans,” Nyx shoots back. He felt like he was on fire, and every nerve in his body was singing out in anger at the sheer audacity.

Gladio looks between the two of them and sighs, running a thick hand through his hair. “Don’t Galahdan’s have a home here, though? The Kingsglaive have the undercity as well as homes in the Citadel. But these people coming from outside the region don’t have any place to stay.”

Prompto frowns but he nods along. “Yeah, they’re all homeless. That’s why they’re coming here...helping to rebuild the cities they’ll be living in.”

“I understand that Galahd has been through a lot, Nyx, but it’s not being inhabited right now. And the Galahdan refugees are all here and safe. It can wait until we have the resources,” Ignis concludes, shuffling a few papers on the table as if Nyx didn’t know that was a tactic and not because he was actually  _ reading _ them.

“I’m sorry, Nyx,” Prompto says and Nyx knows he means it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“Yeah, thank you for your time,” Nyx grits, turning around and walking out of the room. He nearly throws his half empty cup of coffee at the wall but instead he just drops it in a nearby bin and leaves, out of the Citadel, down the steps, and as far away from that place as he can get.

* * *

Little Galahd isn’t what it used to be ten years ago. The street that it once thrived under had been demolished during the war in Insomnia, but some refugees had made their way back in the ten year darkness and set up shop again, offering food and lodging to anyone passing by. 

These days, it serves more as the wrong side of town but that’s exactly where Nyx wanted to be after that shitty fucking talk with the New Insomnia Council members. Except he doesn’t want to be  _ here _ , which is shitfaced at his favorite bar, looking up at a concerned Cor while Libertus explains in detail how Nyx may or may not have started a bar fight, and was now nursing a swollen cheek and a few scraped knuckles. 

“You should see the other guy,” Nyx slurs in response to his own internal question and he laughs, his body sliding down the wall he was propped against. 

Cor sighs and says something to Libertus but Nyx doesn’t hear what it is. He’s too busy watching the room spin. 

The next thing he knows, he’s being stood up and his arm is placed over Cor’s shoulder, while Cor supports him and helps him walk out of the bar and into his idling car outside.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” Nyx sighs, slumping into the passenger side seat. Cor reaches over and buckles him before slamming the door and walking over to the drivers side. The noise startles Nyx and it rings in his ears, bouncing around in his head painfully.

The rest of the car ride is made in relative silence, with the exception of Nyx’s laughter every so often at something he remembers but Cor doesn’t seem to find it nearly as amusing. 

When they finally get back into their apartment off the outskirts of the city, Nyx is able to walk a little bit better on his own but Cor still hangs around to make sure he doesn’t fall over. The front door shuts and Nyx spins on his heel, staggering a bit but keeping his balance long enough to push himself into Cor’s space and kiss him wet and sloppy.

Cor grunts and puts his arms on Nyx’s forearms, gripping him tightly. He starts to walk him backwards and Nyx feels warm and fuzzy knowing that Cor is leading him back to the bedroom and kissing him back. Or, he thinks he’s kissing him back at least. It’s hard to tell with the way Nyx is attempting to devour his boyfriend’s entire face. 

Cor comes to a stop and Nyx thinks he’s going to lift him into bed but instead, he pushes him back and reaches behind him, turning on the dial for the shower. It hisses to life and spouts freezing water all over Nyx.

It sobers him up immediately.

“Cor what the FUCK!” he shouts and Cor grabs the shower head, aiming it at Nyx’s face. Nyx splutters, holding his hands up to block the spray. “Cor!”

“No,” Cor says calmly as he continues to spray him like a misbehaving dog. “I’ve had enough, Nyx. You’re acting like a child and I’m tired of it.”

Nyx shoves the showerhead away long enough to wipe the water from his face and stare at Cor. And  _ fuck _ did it hurt because Cor looked so tired. Nyx honestly doesn’t even remember the last time he gave Cor a long, hard look. He can’t even remember the last time they talked. Like actually talked, about the things going on, about what they were working on. They usually just said good morning and goodnight with not much in between.

And why? 

Well, because Nyx was afraid. When Selena and his mother died, he cried. He cried for them, mourned the entire way to Insomnia crammed in a dingy little boat full of people. And the second he set foot in Insomnia he stopped. He put them in a box right next to his heart and he never opened it. Sure, he’s talked about Galahd in passing and when he’s grown up in the Kingsglaive alongside Libertus and Crowe he felt safe enough to talk about it to them.

But when Crowe died, Nyx locked her away in that box too. When the world went to shit and Nyx thought Drautos had him dead to rights, that was going to be the end. No one would talk about Selena or his mother or Crowe anymore and they’d forever be lost amongst the others who died well before their time. And yet, Nyx didn’t die.

Morning came and Drautos was gone, so Nyx refocused his efforts and helped Cor guide the Prince and his friends to Altissia. And when Noctis disappeared, Nyx helped lead hunting groups in Lestallum. For ten years, the thought of Galahd was gone from his mind because he was here, right now, where people needed him most. In those ten years, he jumped from place to place but the one constant in his life, the one thing that never left was  _ Cor _ .

And now Nyx was pushing him away too. Afraid that if he let Cor get too close, if he opened up that box and let Cor peek inside then maybe one day Cor would be the next one to get locked inside and that thought scared Nyx more than anything.

Cor sighs heavily and he shuts off the water, wrapping a hand around Nyx’s head and pulling him into his shoulder. Nyx doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he registers the burning in his throat and hears the sounds of his harsh sobs echoing off the yellowed tile walls of their shitty little bathroom.

Cor doesn’t let go of him, not when Nyx starts to shiver from the water soaking into his clothes, not when he undresses them and lets them both enjoy a warm shower, not even when they dry off and Cor drags him into the kitchen to get some proper food in Nyx.

It’s not until much later when they’re laying in bed that Nyx finally turns away out of Cor’s grasp and stares at the wall, searching for the words inside that jumbled mess of his head. And Cor is patient through it all and Nyx really  _ truly _ doesn’t deserve him.

“There was nothing left. No buildings, no memories, not even animals. It was like...everything was wiped out,” Nyx finds himself saying. Cor’s breathing is steady and even behind him and it grounds him. “The memories I had in my head felt almost...like a dream. One where you’re in a place you recognize but everything is off. The furniture isn’t where it normally is and you’re dropped off in a completely different area.”

A warm hand runs along his arm and Nyx lets out a shuddery breath. “It didn’t feel like home anymore. It felt like a distant place, but it didn’t feel like the place I grew up in. The minute we got off the boat I wanted to get back on. Because this place...and—and you? That’s what feels like home to me.”

Cor pulls him into his chest and Nyx goes easily, but he doesn’t turn back around, doesn’t even try to look him in the face because he knows he can’t.

“Home...doesn’t have to be one place,” he says quietly. 

Nyx blinks at that. “What do you mean?”

Cor sighs. “I mean exactly that. You can have more than one home. Galahd will always be the place you were born, and the place you grew up. But it doesn’t have to be the only place you feel safe.” His hand continues it’s slow petting along Nyx’s arm, but travels lower to run along his torso. “You’ve made a home for yourself in Insomnia...and that’s okay.”

“I feel like I’m letting my people down, though. We can’t just abandon Galahd. We did that once before and it’s dying, Cor. If we don’t go back and fix it, future Galahdan’s won’t be able to visit their homeland. We’ll lose...stories and traditions. Yeah, we have the elders we can learn from but Galahd isn’t just a  _ place _ , it’s...it lives and it breathes just like you and me.” Nyx finally sits up and turns to look down at Cor and he feels so scared but the fear of losing Galahd trumps the fear of what might happen if they go back.

“Then we’ll figure something out,” Cor says and swings his legs out of bed. He gets dressed and tosses clothes towards Nyx. “Come on, get dressed.”

Nyx grunts and grabs his briefs out of the air. “What? Where are we going?”

“The Citadel.”

* * *

“Marshal. What a...surprise,” Ignis murmurs, in a tone that clearly indicates he really meant ‘inconvenience’.

“Sorry to bother you all so late,” Cor says, in a tone that clearly indicates  _ he _ really meant ‘I don’t give a fuck’. “But we have to address this Galahd issue.”

Nyx is beside Cor, standing just as tall, and with mirrored expressions. Gladio and Prompto were sitting where they were just earlier that morning, though they were clad in sleep clothes this time around. 

Nyx found he didn’t really care. They were here to make a compromise and they weren’t leaving until they got one.

“Marshal,” Ignis sighs and takes off his glasses to rub at the scar tissue around his eyes. “Trust me, I understand the want to rebuild Galahd just as much as you both. I treasure the Kingsglaive and thank the Gods everyday that they were here to help when Noct...King Noctis, needed them the most. But this is quite literally out of my hands. If we allocate resources to Galahd then it takes away from people in Insomnia who need them, who currently don’t have homes to sleep in at night.”

“Why do the resources have to come from them?” Cor asks, and Ignis seems taken aback at the question. “Why don’t you set up a volunteer list? We can ask regions outside Lucis if they’d be willing to lend supplies that would go straight to Galahd.”

“They can live there too,” Nyx hastily adds. “The people who come to build. If they’re looking for a new home I’m sure Galahd will accept them. We’ve lost...countless people over the years. But Galahd is always willing to provide a home for those who need it…”

Prompto turns an eager look to Gladio and Ignis and with a tired wave of his hand, Ignis stands. “Very well. But if this is an effort you wish to lead, then you both can go through the hassle of contacting outer regions to ask for support. You have Insomnia’s permission. But I, am going to bed,” he says and disappears with the others through a side door, though not without a quick wave from Prompto.

Nyx turns to Cor and blinks a few times. “Did...we just get dismissed?”

Cor huffs. “Looks like it. But at least we got what we wanted first.” 

But there was still a nagging feeling inside of Nyx, that something was still missing.

* * *

Now, and this was news to Nyx, but it turns out that trying to get regions to help rebuild Galahd was really fucking hard. Not only did most places not give a shit about a group of islands off the coast, but a lot of these regions had never even  _ heard _ of Galahd before and that, well...that really rubbed Nyx the wrong way.

But, instead of getting into a fist fight with every ignorant Council member he had to talk to, he let Cor handle the actual negotiations and, unsurprisingly, Cor was able to get them the help they’d need.

So six months later, in the heat of a Galahdan summer, Nyx wipes the sweat off his brow and takes a swig of water from his canteen, admiring the finishing touches he just put on what was his and Cor’s new home in Galahd.

All around him, the sounds of laughter and conversation swelled. Children ran around and played, adults maneuvered past them holding pallets of wood or supplies over their heads to avoid getting knocked into. Nyx could spot Libertus a few meters away, teaching a bunch of kids how to properly get water from their new well. And along with the new homes, families were also rebuilt. Long lost relatives coming together in the land they were born from, introducing new babies, new husbands, new wives. 

Down the road a ways were volunteers spooning out bowls of stew to those working tirelessly to get roofs up on the homes just in time for the summer storms, and somewhere else the elders were teaching the newcomers all about which plants and animals were dangerous and which were okay because along with their new arrival, the flora and fauna had come back as well.

There were still places untouched where the ash was deeply embedded in the soil and it would take years for the new trees they planted to grow into the landscape, but their land was healing. Slowly but surely, live was being breathed back into the lungs of Galahd and  _ this _ was the home that Nyx had known. The beautiful fields, the bubbling streams, and the overwhelming sense of community. And yet, his chest still felt hollow but he couldn’t figure out what was missing.

“Nyx, come here,” Cor’s voice calls from around the back of the house. 

Like a puppy, Nyx perks up and clips the cap over his canteen, hooking it back onto his utility belt and following the path along the side of the house. Cor steps aside and Nyx stills.

“I know Galahd doesn’t do graves...but I thought an altar might be nice,” he says. 

Nyx’s eyes are still stuck on two picture frames. One of his mom and Selena, the other of Crowe. They were sitting on what looked like a purple scarf, woven with beads by a Galahdan, atop a slab of stone. 

“I asked around and Libertus thought it was a good idea. But if it’s too much—”

“Where,” Nyx interrupts, throat dry. He pauses to swallow. “Where did you...find that picture?” he asks, stiffly motioning to the one of his family.

Cor leans against the side of the house and crosses his arms over his chest. “I went back to that shitty apartment you used to live in. There wasn’t even really a building left but I found that picture in the rubble. Got Prom to fix it up for me and make it bigger. The original is inside somewhere.”

Nyx finally takes a few steps forward and runs a fingertip along the frame. “Thank you,” he whispers. His eyes settle on his mother’s smile and he inhales sharply. 

This is what he was missing. 

When he exhales, gone is that hollow feeling and in its place is a newly found feeling of being complete. The sun shines on his face, the wind blows and cools the sweat on his forehead, children squeal and roll down the hills, and Nyx is back in the Galahd he’s carried with him all these years. And so is his mother, his sister, Crowe, and Cor.

Cor reaches out and pulls Nyx into his side, laying a gentle kiss against his temple.

“Welcome home, Nyx.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh I know I missed a day and I'll make it up tomorrow during the free day prompt, but seriously thank you to everyone who has gone through this week with me and read and commented on every fic so far! Trust me, seeing familiar usernames pop up in my email with a new comment fills me with such glee that I honestly could not have finished this week without your support! Also to the fanart I received as well! I'll never not be shocked anytime someone sees something I wrote and goes "I think I'll make art for that". It blows me away every time.
> 
> And thank you to my love, Alex, for suggesting I write for Nyx week in the first place! I haven't been motivated to write in months and this was the kick I needed to get my brain juices flowing. <3


End file.
